


wedding bell blues

by emkat97



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Near Future, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emkat97/pseuds/emkat97
Summary: On the one-year anniversary of the Met Gay-la heist, Debbie has a very important question to ask Lou.Too bad their crew can't take a fucking hint.





	wedding bell blues

**Author's Note:**

> happy met gala, girls and gays! unfortunately, I'm posting this a day late because i was too sleepy to edit last night, but here's some short fluff for you.
> 
> What have our gals been up to? Well, Deb's been planning, and everyone else - an actor, a designer, a jeweler, and a YouTube sensation - are going to the 2019 Met Gala ("camp" theme non-withstanding).
> 
> Tam's being a mom, Nine's being a big sister, and Lou...is Lou.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this silly little thing, apologies for how OOC it is. Just figured we needed something to celebrate the anniversary of our favorite gays becoming multi-millionaires :)
> 
> As always, comments are super super appreciated! enjoy <3

**_7 AM_ **

 

For once in her lifetime, Lou Miller was waking up peacefully to the faint smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee, and not the set-in fear that someone (Deborah Ocean) was burning down her kitchen.

 

“This is nice of you,” Lou yawned as Debbie slid a plate towards her and planted a kiss on her temple. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious. I'm allowed to do something nice for you on occasion.”

 

“And what a very rare occasion it is when you do.”

 

Debbie gave Lou a tiny smile. “Well, today’s a big day.”

 

“Is it now?”

 

“Been a year.”

 

“A year of what? You kicking me in the shins every time you roll over, or a year of Daphne bringing over all of her one-night-stands because she actually has a “real bed” here?”

 

Debbie rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m talking about.”

 

Lou grinned. “Yeah. I do.”

 

Debbie leaned forward to capture Lou’s lips with her own. The Met heist had been worth every excruciating moment in that jail cell, and it had confirmed to her that not only was she 100% far more than Danny Ocean’s little sister, but also that Lou Miller was the greatest gift she’d ever been given in her entire life.

 

Debbie tucked a piece of Lou’s hair behind her ear. “Can we talk about something?”

 

“...okay?”

 

“Nothing bad.”

 

“Well, thank God for that.”

 

Debbie pulled her chair a little closer, casting a sideways glance at the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table. “I want to talk about us.”

 

“Jesus, Deb, it’s barely nine in the morning.”

 

“Can you listen? For a second? Maybe?”

 

Lou sighed and sipped her coffee. “All ears, honey.”

 

Debbie cleared her throat. “Okay. I – ”

 

“Excuse me, dears! Lady with a gown coming through!” Rose burst through the door, barely visible over the fifteen pounds of purple tulle she was carrying.

 

“Who is this for, exactly?” Lou crinkled her eyebrows.

 

Rose wiped the sweat from her hands on her blazer before stuttering, “...Penelope Stern.”

 

Lou burst out laughing and Debbie’s cheeks flushed.

 

“I’m sure the princess is just _delighted_ to hear that, hmm Deb?”

 

Debbie ignored Lou’s question and stared at Rose. “Why are you here?”

 

“I needed someplace to store this until tonight.”

 

“And why did you choose our loft, exactly?”

 

Rose shrugged. “Roomy.”

 

Setting the dress on the couch and letting the 30-foot train billow out behind it, Rose carefully stepped around it, smoothed her velvet skirt and smiled at her two friends. Her eye twitched ever so slightly.

 

“Good Lord, do I need a margarita. I’ll see you girls later.”

 

With that, she was gone.

 

Lou chuckled once again, before scooping up Debbie’s plate of half-eaten pancakes and stalking towards the dishwasher.

 

Debbie sighed.

 

*

 

**_9 AM_ **

 

“Do you know where I put my glasses?”

 

“Are they on the nightstand?”

 

“No.”

 

“Kitchen table?” Debbie drummed her fingertips against her thigh.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Where did you see them last?”

 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?”

 

“I have no idea where your glasses are, baby.”

 

“Oh, this is _bad_ , Deb. I’m almost out of contacts solution.”

 

“And whose fault is that that they didn’t get  _additional_ contacts solution?

 

Lou snorted. “Please. Don’t pretend you don’t love it when I’m blind. Keeps me from seeing all your shortcomings.”

 

“Oh? Like what?”

 

“Oh, I have a whole list...”

 

“And again, I’m inviting you to _please, darling_ , tell me what is included on said list.”

 

Lou waggled an accusatory finger in her face. “Oh no. You’re never going to get me to fall for that one.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.” Lou bent down and kissed her. “I love you.” She turned.

 

“Hey,” Debbie whispered as she grabbed Lou’s wrist, pulling her down to her lap.

 

“Oh. Hello.”

 

“We should – ”

 

Debbie was cut off by Lou’s cell phone erupting into chirps.

 

“Ah! Thank God! Give me two minutes.” Lou leaped off Debbie’s lap and grabbed the phone, putting it on speaker in the process. “Hey, doll.”

 

“ _Ew, what? Don’t call me doll. What’s up? Me and V only get like, half an hour for lunch. Y’all have a tech question, make it quick.”_

“Have you seen my glasses?”

 

Debbie rolled her eyes, and even though she couldn’t see her, she could tell that Nine-Ball was doing the same thing.

 

“ _You’re interruptin’ our MIT visit to ask about your **glasses**?”_

“You were the last one to leave last weekend! Maybe you picked mine up by mistake?"

 

Nine scoffed in frustration. _“Bitch, we ain’t even got the same **prescription.** Get outta here with your white ass old lady ass problems – ”_

Lou hung up the phone in a huff and ran her hand through her hair. She stopped short before glancing at Debbie with wide eyes.

 

“Don’t you dare say a word.”

 

Lou pulled her glasses from the top of her head and left the room.

 

Debbie sighed.

 

*

 

**_11 AM_ **

 

“You get your ass in here before I _pull_ you in, Deborah. You’ll slip, then I’ll slip, then we’ll both fall, then one of us will get concussed, then the other one will have to ride along in the ambulance in just a towel and while I’m completely fine with that, I know you’re a bit more prudish.”

 

Debbie ran the brush through her hair as she half-listened to Lou ramble from her place in the shower. “You’re not making any sense whatsoever.”

 

“Hush. Get in.”

 

“Bossy, bossy,” sing-songed Debbie, dropping her towel to the floor. “If I get in this shower with you right now, can we please talk once we get out?”

 

“What up.”

 

Debbie jumped about two feet in the air at the unwelcome sound of Constance’s voice in their bathroom. As Debbie turned and yanked her towel back up, Constance nodded towards her and sucked on a lollipop. Lou opened the shower door in alarm, and Constance shifted her gaze towards her.

 

“Whoa. Nice tits.”

 

“Constance!”

 

“Yeah, mom?”

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

 

“Geez, calm down,” Constance narrowed her eyes at Debbie. “Don’t get your...lack of panties in a bunch.”

 

“Constance, what’s up?” Lou groaned as she rubbed a spot on her shoulder. She still hadn’t bothered to put her towel on.

 

“I need something to wear.”

 

“You _have clothes,_ Constance.”

 

“Nah fam! For the gala!”

 

Debbie and Lou blinked. “You’re _going_ to the Met Ball?”

 

“Hey! Don’t sound so surprised!”

 

“So...you were... _invited_?”

 

“Yeah!” Constance insisted. "I'm _famous_ , my dudes!"

 

“Is _everyone_ we know going to that fucking ball,” Lou mumbled under her breath.

 

Constance nodded. “Yup. Everyone but Nine and Mama Tim-Tam.”

 

“Hey,” Debbie snapped. “First, ‘Tim-Tam’ is reserved for me and Lou to use.”

 

“Fine. Tamotheé Chalamet.”

 

“Second, the Gala is _tonight,_ Constance.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“And you don’t know what you’re wearing.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Oh dear God,” Lou groaned, stepping out of the shower and throwing her towel over her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go. I’m sure I have something.”

 

“Hell _yeah,_ you do!” Constance eagerly followed her out of the room.

 

Debbie sighed.

 

*

 

**_2 PM_ **

****

Veselka was never this packed on a Monday afternoon.

 

Photographers, reporters, interns grabbing coffee for said photographers and reporters, all were packed into the tiny dining space. It was a miracle it wasn't standing-room-only.

 

Lou looked great. She always did. They’d navigated the packed New York pavement effortlessly, holding tight to each other’s hands, and although it took them close to 20 minutes to place their order, they’d managed to get their usual table.

 

So many plans, so many memories made at this one table.

 

Debbie glanced at Dina behind the bar, catching her eye briefly, hoping against hope that she’d be bringing their dessert over at the most opportune time.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You. Thinking. What about?” Lou ate off of Debbie’s plate as she spoke.

 

“Not much.”

 

“I don’t believe that.”

 

“You, then.”

 

“Seems like you’ve been thinking about me an awful lot today."

 

“One of my favorite things to think about.”

 

“I appreciate that.”

 

Debbie kept her eyes glued to her food, and Lou reached for her hand. She smiled at Debbie. “Hey. You wanted to talk. Let’s talk. You have my full attention.”

 

All of the tension in Debbie’s shoulders seemed to release at Lou’s words. “Thank God.” She could see Dina coming over to their table and wearing a sneaky grin.

 

Debbie cleared her throat once more. “So. I’ve been – oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”

 

“Hi, guys!!” Amita, wearing full hair rollers, came bouncing over to their table.

 

Lou forced a smile. “...hey, Amita.”

 

“Gosh, I am so excited!! My _first_ Met Gala!”

 

Debbie and Lou exchanged a look, which was not lost to Amita; “Okay, yeah, not my first _technically,_ but you know what I mean.”

 

Lou smiled. “We do. It’s nice, sweetheart. Really. It’s great you’re all going together.”

 

Amita’s smile dropped. “Oh my God...we _totally_ could have invited you guys, huh? Oh, shoot. I’m so sorry! I just – I don’t think any of us thought it would really be your scene, y’know?”

 

Lou waved her comment off. “It’s fine. I was the only one who didn’t really...go in? Last year, and that was fine by me. Too much noise.”

 

“Says the club owner,” muttered Debbie. Lou poked her in the ribs.

 

“No, really. I don’t like an audience. None of us should. Well, maybe Daphne's the exception there, but she's a rare breed, that one.”

 

Lou could tell Amita wasn’t really listening, so she reached for her water.

 

Debbie glanced at Dina again, who quickly returned to her place at the bar.

 

“Well, I’ll see you guys later! Gotta go get my makeup done. AAH I am _so_ excited!!! Don’t worry, I will tell you _all_ about it later!!”

 

“Can’t wait,” Lou replied with a smile. Debbie was impressed by how genuine her response sounded.

 

Amita walked out the diner doors, and neither Debbie nor Lou could ignore the awkward silence between them.

 

“So...do you still want dessert or should we just get the check?”

 

Debbie shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever you want.”

 

Lou nodded. “Check it is.”

 

Debbie sighed.

 

*

 

**_5 PM_ **

****

“Really, Deb? You dragged me out of the house and through all that traffic just to go to a shitty street corner by Hell’s Kitchen?”

 

“Shhh. Look at the intersection we’re at.”

 

Lou glanced at the street signs, and realization dawned on her face.

 

“Oh my God, this is – ”

 

“Our first apartment. Yeah.”

 

Lou hummed. “Looks different.”

 

“Well, they weren’t condos before.”

 

Lou nodded. “Lot of good memories in that apartment.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“With you.” Lou smiled.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Some...not-so-good ones, too.”

 

Debbie rubbed her thumb over the back of Lou’s hand. “I know.”

 

Lou, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, rested her head on Debbie’s shoulders.

 

“Lou.”

 

“Yeah, Deb?”

 

“I want to spend the rest of my life making memories with you.”

 

As Lou lifted her head and Debbie tried her hardest to continue her sentence, a familiar voice rang out: “Don’t tell me you two are looking at a condo here, too.”

 

Debbie turned around in what felt like slow-motion as that goddamn tension returned to her shoulders. Tammy stood on the sidewalk next to them, her hands on her hips, giving them a knowing look.

 

“No,” Debbie said, voice as cold as ice, “we’re perfectly happy in the loft, thank you very much.”

 

Lou pointed her chin towards the building. “Just taking a walk down memory lane.”

 

There was a sharp intake of breath from Tammy as she nodded. “Ohhh, oh yeah! Wow, you two were here for, what, upwards of seven years? What are the odds?”

 

“Yeah,” Debbie muttered to herself, “what are the odds.”  


“Didn’t know you were moving up here, Tim-Tam.”

 

Tammy pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re considering it. Won’t be for a while, though.”

 

Lou nodded. “Nice. Although, I have to say, I’m surprised. The suburbs have been good to you.”

 

“I know, but with the kids going off to boarding school next year, I just figured it might be nice to be closer to friends.”

 

“Friends? You mean us?” Debbie asked incredulously.

 

“You know, I _usually_ mean you, Deb, but with that attitude, it looks like I’ll just be visiting my _other_ two best friends on a daily basis.”

 

“ _Daily?!”_

 

Lou shook her head. “Sorry, Tim-Tam. She’s just a little ornery today. You know how she gets."

 

“Yeah.” Tammy’s eyes darted back and forth between her two best friends. “I’m sorry, were you two in the middle of something? I was going to grab some dinner in a bit, you’re welcome to join!”

 

Lou squeezed Debbie’s hand. “Sure. I don’t think we have any other major plans.”

 

Debbie sighed.

 

*

 

**_11 PM_ **

****

Debbie was always surprised by how much time she could waste with Lou.

 

Wasting time wasn’t a concept Debbie Ocean was exactly _fond_ of, to be fair. But she could easily spend hours walking with Lou, talking with Lou, scoping out marks she didn’t even care about with Lou, getting ice cream, watching movies, visiting book stores.

 

With Lou.

 

By the time they got back to the loft, the Gala was just starting to let out, and those who didn’t have an after-party to attend were making their way home.

 

Pushing their door open, Debbie was stunned to find four glamorously dressed women, one housewife, and one hacker, all wearing ridiculous paper party hats, standing in her living room.

 

“Surprise!” Daphne clapped her hands, the pink metallic panels of her gown shimmering every time she moved. “Happy heist-iversary!”

 

“Are you surprised? Please tell me you’re surprised,” Amita piped up, popping a champagne-filled chocolate into her mouth.

 

“I mean...” Lou laughed, a little uncomfortably, as she slid her jacket off her shoulders and threw it onto the couch, glancing at the pizza box and the stack of Blu-Rays on her coffee table.

 

“Because I’ve been planning this for weeks and honestly, I’m gonna be pissed if you’re not into this,” Daphne said with her head held high.

 

“So let me get this straight,” Lou started, “You lot left the Met Gala early...and _you_ left your little sister’s college tour...and _you_ left your entire family in New Jersey...to come eat shitty pizza with us on a Monday night?”

 

Rose nodded. “You’re pretty much caught up.”

 

Tammy smiled. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was sworn to secrecy.”

 

Lou pouted. “And here I thought we were _friends_ , Tim-Tam.”

 

Daphne tilted her head. “Wait...are we...are we not friends? Did I organize this for a bunch of strangers?”

 

Lou rolled her eyes. “Yes, Kluger, you have friends. Relax.”

 

“Glad you found your glasses, mama,” Nine smirked.

 

“Very funny. But in all seriousness, this is...strangely sweet? Thank you,” Lou turned to Deb. “Isn’t it nice, Deb?”

 

Debbie stood in the doorway, seemingly in a trance, only moving forward when Lou referred to her by name.

 

“Yeah. Nice. Whatever.”

 

Lou furrowed her brow.

 

Constance handed Debbie a bottle of wine. “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

 

Debbie, who was so very tired, sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and stood next to the couch as the rest of the ladies sunk down into chairs or made themselves comfortable on the carpet.

 

“Okay. Well...ladies, it’s been...it’s been a year. And...what a year it’s been...”

 

Constance leaned into Amita. “Those don’t sound like Deb words.”

 

“We’ve all...learned a lot about ourselves, and...it’s been incredible. Really, it has.” Debbie squeezed her eyes shut before putting on a saccharine smile. “Cheers.”

 

“That’s it?!” Daphne complained. “I told Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively to find someone else for a threesome for _this?!_ ”

 

“Look, it’s a miracle I’m not asking you all to leave right now, okay?! It’s been a long day and I’m going to bed,” snapped Debbie.

 

“Debbie, what’s wrong?” Amita asked.

 

“Oh! Nothing! Forgive for being just a _little_ irritated at you all for bombarding Lou and I on _today_ of all days!” Debbie was losing it, and fast.

 

“Mom, chill – ”

 

“No! I will not ‘chill’! For Christ's sake, I have been trying to _propose_ to this woman all day,” Debbie whined, pointing towards Lou, “and _every fucking time_ I have a window, one of you has yet another unique crisis that, hmm, I don’t know, you might be able to figure out on your own if you ever _lived in your own apartments!_ ”

 

You could hear a pin drop.

 

Constance raised her hand. “So...I _shouldn’t_ make it a habit of showing up in your bathroom before noon?”

 

“NO, Constance.”

 

Constance nodded. “Cool, cool, got it. After 12 it is.”

 

Lou cleared her throat. Debbie turned to her.

 

“I – never mind.”

 

“Honey...”

 

“Lou, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I’ll...well, surprise, I guess? I’ll pick another day. I’m tired.”

 

“Deb, the day’s not important,” Lou spoke quietly.

 

“But today _is._ I just thought – ”

 

“I figured it out.”

 

Debbie stared at her. “What?”

 

Lou chuckled. “I figured it out at Veselka. Dina kept smiling at me and you were sweating up a storm.”

 

“You... _knew_...”

 

“I know you, honey. And you know me. Come here.”

 

Debbie approached her cautiously.

 

Lou leaned back in her chair so that one arm was resting casually against her crossed legs. “Ask me.”

 

“... _now_?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“In front of _these_ idiots?”

 

“What the _fuck_ ,” Nine mumbled to herself.

 

“Deborah, I would have married you twenty years ago. I’ll marry you _tomorrow._ ”

 

“Then why does she need to propose, exactly? So we can sit around and continue to get insulted?” Daphne said to her nail file.

 

But Debbie knew.

 

She knew that Lou didn’t _need_ to hear the words.

 

But she sure would _like_ to.

 

So that’s how Debbie Ocean found herself kneeling in front of the love of her life, holding open a ring box, a box of greasy pizza to her left and a gaggle of wide-eyed criminals to her right.

 

“Nice job, Amita,” Rose nudged her gently.

 

“I didn’t make that! I’m kind of insulted, actually.”

 

Tammy smiled to herself. “That’s her mom’s ring. She’s had it for years. I thought she’d have pawned it by now, but...” Tammy liked when she was wrong about certain things pertaining to Debbie Ocean.

 

“Shhhhh!” Daphne leaned forward.

 

Debbie spoke so low, it was a miracle that anyone besides Lou was able to hear her.

 

“Louann Miller, my beautiful, beautiful better half. You make me a better person just by being by my side, and I cannot imagine a future where I’m not waking up to your smile every day. Now, before I lose my goddamn mind, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

 

Lou leaned forward and tangled her hands in Debbie’s hair as they kissed.

 

The group erupted into giggles and applause until Daphne held up her hand. “I’m gonna need to hear some verbal consent here.”

 

“Oh, for _God’s sake. Yes_ , Deb, of course I’ll marry you. Yes.”

 

They kissed some more, and Constance began enthusiastically passing around paper plates and slices of pizza.

 

Lou pulled away to stare at her now-fiancée. “Now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

 

“Don’t make me take that ring away from you.”

 

Lou laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, jailbird. Wouldn't ever dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know! I love love love love love comments, and if you comment, I'll give you one (1) cookie. 
> 
> love y'all <3


End file.
